Oameni vechi şi noi

Nu vreau oameni noi,
Nu vreau pe nimeni nou
Nu mai este loc pentru nimeni,
N-am terminat de iubit oamenii vechi, 
Oamenii vechi de când lumea mea,
Oamenii vechi de când mă iubesc,
În fiecare zi, fără să sară vreuna,
Şi au adăugat zile şi zile,
În care nu m-au uitat,
O viaţă nu ajunge să iubeşti un om,
Când voi iubi eu pe toţi oamenii vechi?

Make-up

No lipstick for me today,

I want to kiss you

With my naked lips,

Just a little bit of blush

To hide the pleasure flush,

Two arched brows

To hug you in a trap,

Deceiving cat-eye lines

For an intensely I don’t care,

A porcelain foundation

No crack to show emotion,

But something doesn’t seem to fit

Where can I find concealer

For my racing heartbeat?

Little Mermaid

Tread on knives

But keep your head up

Dance on knives

But keep your head up

There’s not much left of you

You're all chopped up

But keep your head up

Don’t look down

Your heart is sinking

Your self is dissolving

You feel like nothing

But keep your head up

You need to find the sky.

arta e în noi

"Cel care simte este dator să scrie" ( Bartolomeu Anania )

"The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” (Kurt Vonnegut)

Primul citat a fost un impuls pentru mine de a lăsa ceea ce simt în interior să prindă o formă. Pentru mine în prezent asta înseamnă a scrie versuri. Dacă scriu versuri, nu înseamnă că sunt poet, şi totuşi o fac. Şi de ce să nu o fac? Ce ne opreşte să creăm ceva? Dacă simţim nevoia asta, nu ar trebui să ne oprească nimic. Există într-adevăr persoane care au talente deosebite, dar asta nu înseamnă că noi muritorii de rând trebuie să ne mulţumim cu nimic. Dacă vreau să cioplesc un lemn, nu înseamnă că trebuie să fiu Brâncuşi, dacă vreau să desenez pe o foaie, nu înseamnă că mă cred Van Gogh, dacă vreau să desenez o inimă pe nisip pe care o vor şterge valurile, nu înseamnă că nu trebuie să o mai fac. Al doilea citat l-am găsit deja după ce am simţit lucrurile astea şi e atât de bine spus. Lumea are şi aşa tendinţa de a distruge, măcar să nu ne înăbuşim dorinţele de a crea ceva. Avem prea mare timiditate faţă de artă şi arta este în noi, în toţi,  dar trebuie să o lăsăm să crească, nu să-i tăiem mereu vlăstarele, să-i dăm frîu liber, să curgă, chiar dacă e un firicel firav...şi, cuvinte mari, nu am fi oare puţin mai fericiţi?

Asta am vrut eu să împărtăşesc cu voi.

Puteţi să comentaţi orice, chiar dacă e o critică feroce :D

a porcelain figurine

May I have your attention, please?

May I have your attention, please?

I’m just a porcelain figurine

Empty inside and with no feelings

And when you look at me your eyes are pleased

But then you forget what your eyes have just seen

But when no-one is looking I dance and sing

And sometimes I break

And when I mean nothing,

Nothing I remain.

A shadow I can't see

There’s a shadow hanging over me, surrounding me,

Bugging me, embracing me,

If I turn around it’s there, if I turn my back it’s there,

It won’t fight with me, it won’t let me be,

Quicksand swallowing me,

With caressing claws and bitter-sweet grins,

A shadow lurking around me,

Not attacking, but never departing,

Following me, hunting me, haunting me,

I can’t fight it, I can’t ignore it

A black shadow I can’t see…

Estás dentro de mi

Estás dentro de mí,

Y todos los que me ven no saben

Que también te ven a ti.

Escondido en mí te llevo por todas partes

Y corres por mi alma como la sangre por mi cuerpo,

Y todos los que me conocen no saben

Que me nutro con tu amor,

Que tu cariño me sigue,

Que tu recuerdo es mi perfume.

La gente me mira y no sabe

Que también te mira a ti. 

Para mi Nelson

¿Por qué cuando te miro veo niños, veo dulzura y ternura?

¿Por qué veo flores, cielos, tierras y pueblos?

¿Por qué cuando te miro veo todo lo que me hizo feliz antes de ti?

Vuelven las mañanas felices que tuve antes de ti,

Vuelve la ternura que tuve antes de ti,

Vuelve toda la felicidad que sentí antes de ti,

El corazón sonríe y llora, te miro y no existe rechazo.

Lost guideline

Where is the line between what I want and what is fine?

How can I go beyond what makes someone happy and makes others die?

The flower of lotus grows from the mud

The flowers I give are covered in mud

The heart has its ways, but they all go astray

One must follow the lead of another way

The where is painfully searching for the how…

Day 5 without Facebook. Nothing special.

Go back to Day 1. Everything is just normal.

Day 4 without Facebook. Cooking

So in all these days without Facebook I started cooking again. Yay! Nothing else to add. 

Day 3 without Facebook. The people.

Well now I'd rather be on Facebook than write on this blog (this place is so deserted that I'm surprised it's not haunted by any ghosts), but I gotta keep with my decision. So here I am, crossing the limit of "I can't stay more than 3 days without..." 
I miss the people, most of all their photos. I wonder what they are doing or if some of my friends posted something. I have the feeling I'm missing on something, but then I realize it can't be much in just 3 days. Some of my friends are so far away that I'm not able to call them, or maybe I just haven't called them or emailed them in such a long time that it'd seem akward now. And even if I call or e-mail them, it's not the same like seeing them post some photos once in a while. If I think about it, I wish people would post photos more often. And commenting is fun. I miss the social aspect of Facebook. I'm a very shy person, but at the same time a people-person, I like people a lot. This makes me perfect for Facebook. And now I feel like a hermit :)) 
Is my addiction starting to show its presence?

Day 2 without Facebook. I can feel a bit of a difference.

I have to admit that I'm starting to miss it. Sometimes during the day I think of posting things on Facebook and then I realize "Oh..." And when on the Internet I still have the instinct of opening Fb to check what's going on. Or I sometimes feel like playing games. But after that I realize how boring it all became. I'm like in a funny photo I saw on Fb (oh the irony) which said "I like this song a lot, I have to listen to it until I hate it", well when I like something I exaggerate until I hate it and I did the same thing with Fb. 
And now at the end of the day, I realize I'm doing so many other things than Facebook. 
It feels so good that I still don't feel the need to come back. And now I wonder...was I really addicted or did I only have the idea of being addicted? hmmm, we'll see in the next days, do not miss the next episodes of boring Facebook rehab accounts (I sometimes wanna rate my own post as boring)

Day 1 without Facebook. Nothing special

I've decided to take a break from Facebook, I was really addicted and even though it bored me to death I kept scrolling and clicking and sharing and wasting hours of my life and just couldn't stop myself.
So yesterday I deactivated my account. I decided to keep away a certain number of days and write daily about how it feels, even though nobody reads my blog :)). 
Well it feels great til now, I don't miss it so I wonder when I'm gonna start feeling I need it. Everything is just so normal that I have no idea why I'm writing about this, but well...:P

Anything. Random thoughts of a day

I don't like writing because it leaves me feeling trivial, I only feel some kind of satisfaction when I write "poetry-like" texts  and my thoughts are too short to be able to fill the virtual spaces of a blog, but I was tempted, so I'm gonna let myself slide in this new attraction and feed my internet addiction with a new experience...writing on a blog. I'm gonna start in English because my own language is too intimate and I'm too shy yet.

The good thing is I can write ANYTHING, and that feels good...the feeling of freedom is the greatest.

So I dedicate this blog to Anything, lovely word.

I consider myself and my thinking as half-ripe, so here are three half-ripe thoughts that had a walk through my mind today:

1. I feel that just as the history of humanity had different ages or eras, my own life is made up of different "epochs" with completely different states of mind and atmospheres. I can distinguish them very well looking back and I'm so amazed how different they are, it is as if I lived 10 different lives. My current "epoch" feels so strange, I wonder where it'll lead to. I think I've read this idea before, not sure, but today I really felt it. I wonder if everyone feels the same...do you?

2. It's strange how I can feel a fragile stream of joy in the midst of a disappointment, the kind of disappointment that crushes vanity or futile desire. It's the pain of being disappointed and at the same time a feeling of joy for being set free. Do you feel the same sometimes?

Here is what I wrote one day when I had a great dissappointment:

Battle

The battle was lost before it began,

The smell of defeat was really sweet,

The stab you gave me was a victory,

The pain that I felt was enlightening,

The blood that was shed fed the life within,

The kick in the ass was a fluttering wing,

I fall down, bite the ground and fly

3. Pandora's box. Should I open it this time again or not? That boredom and curiosity that won't let you stay still, that keeps saying "do it, just do something, do. do. do" but you know it will lead to some sort of mini-disaster. But still, you so want it, but shouldn't, but maybe...but that thought "Don't open the box again". I heard that life equals movement, but I also heard that truth can only be found in silence. Would you open the box or not?

Feel free to comment, I'm curious if my theory is right, that Anything a person feels or thinks, somebody else, in another space or time, felt, or thought exactly the same.